In the last episode, I found one stone of a path I had built through the garden. It was exciting to rediscover this path. But there I was – balanced on one foot – looking for the next step.
Now I’ve got extra incentive to keep clearing. Not only have I begun to enjoy the work, but now I want to find the rest of the path. But as you can see from this photo, there’s quite a jungle of weeds and vines in there.
So I put on my gardening clothes and gloves, get out my tools, and start in.
The second stone isn’t hard to find. It’s right behind the first one.
But the next one isn’t. It turns out the path’s curved, making it impossible to anticipate where the stones will be. As I think about it though, it’s got to be close enough to the second stone for me to take a step. There are a limited number of possible locations for the third step.
Again, I just clear. The big stuff first, and then start on the smaller weeds. Looking for signs of the next stone. Eventually, I’m on my hands and knees feeling in the dirt. Just like did to find the edges of that first stone.
Eureka! I’ve found it! Excited as a kid, I dig out the space. I’m now 3 stones down the path.
When we’re not sure of the next steps of the path, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. Feel like it’s one big black hole. Unlimited choice. But as we keep looking, we see that the choices aren’t quite as daunting as all that. That there is some logic to what comes next.
But we have to clear out to find it. The big stuff first. Sometimes it’s a matter of eliminating the obvious no. That narrows down the choices right there. Then getting into the smaller stuff. Things that distract us. That seem like answers and aren’t.
Then there’s the big question – what option seems more like me? When faced with a big decision, I often use tools that force me to clearly state my evaluation criteria before trying to choose. I’ve even written about it before, and offered a decision-making template.
Faced with this choice, I did the gardening equivalent. Tried to think like me. Since I built this path in the first place, it was likely that it would be curved. After all, my brick front walk is curved. The patio is angled. I think a curved path creates mystery. So yeah. It’s probably curved.
Now my choices are slightly to the right or slightly to the left. The path still has to go toward the back of the garden, and I have to be able to easily reach the next step. There’s a pretty small area in which I have to look. Now I can focus on only a small area to dig and look.
That day I completely uncover the third, fourth, and fifth steps, and find the edge of the sixth. I’m probably about halfway there. How do you think I feel now?
Encouraged. Exhilarated. Energized. It’s getting easier to find each succeeding step because now I see a pattern. The path has curved to the right, and now it’s starting to curve to the left. My next options will be limited even more than the first. Because it still has to lead to the back of the garden. And I still have to be able to reach the next stone in one step.
The same is true for you. What may feel like the wild west when you start on a path will get more clear with each step you take. And not until you do. Finding the first step was the hardest. Finding the second step was the second hardest. Each step after that got a little easier because each step limited the options for the next.
Sure, the weeds will be in the way to try and obscure the view. To try and get you to quit in frustration. But now you know. The path is there. Meant for you. And once you clear enough, it will get easier to find and use. Just like mine.
And you know what? A few days later, I make it all the way to the end. And then decide to add a few more stones.
That’s the cool thing about your path. You’re not just stuck with it. You can keep building as you go. Just find a few more stones, add some dirt, and you’re good to go. You can make it straight or curved. Narrow, or wide. The choice is yours.
There’s a difference though. My path ends at the lawn on the other side. Some of your paths may end with a completed project. But many of our paths have no end. Until the end of our lives. Those paths we definitely want to keep building. And continuously clearing out.
My path may get overgrown again. I hope not, but it might happen. If it does, I’ll put on my gardening clothes and gloves, get out my tools, and start clearing again. As often as it takes to get back on the path. Are you willing to do the same?
Please share your story in the comments.